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“So the queen is not only the queen, but the sheriff of her own area.”

“Yes; it eliminates confusion. Not all the rulers follow that pattern, but the queen found it irksome to constantly consult another vampire when she wanted to do something.”

“Sounds like the queen.” I glanced forward at our companions. Diantha and Johan were occupied: Diantha with sleep, Johan with his book. I wondered if it was a dissection book, with diagrams—or perhaps an account of the crimes of Jack the Ripper, with the crime scene photographs. That seemed about Johan’s speed. “How come the queen has a lawyer like him?” I asked in as low a voice as I could manage. “He seems really . . . shoddy.”

“Johan Glassport is a great lawyer, and one who will take cases other lawyers won’t,” said Mr. Cataliades. “And he is also a murderer. But then, we all are, are we not?” His beady dark eyes looked directly into mine.

I returned the look for a long moment. “In defense of my own life or the life of someone I loved, I would kill an attacker,” I said, thinking before every word left my mouth.

“What a diplomatic way to put it, Miss Stackhouse. I can’t say the same for myself. Some things I have killed, I tore apart for the sheer joy of it.”

Oh, ick. More than I wanted to know.

“Diantha loves to hunt deer, and she has killed people in my defense. And she and her sister even brought down a rogue vampire or two.”

I reminded myself to treat Diantha with more respect. Killing a vampire was a very difficult undertaking. And she could play jacks like a fiend.

“And Johan?” I asked.

“Perhaps I’d better leave Johan’s little predilections unspoken for the moment. He won’t step out of line while he’s with us, after all. Are you pleased with the job Johan is doing, briefing you?”

“Is that what he’s doing? Well, yes, I guess so. He’s been very thorough, which is what you want.”

“Indeed.”

“Can you tell me what to expect at the summit? What the queen will want?”

Mr. Cataliades said, “Let’s sit and I’ll try to explain it to you.”

For the next hour, he talked, and I listened and asked questions.

By the time Diantha sat up and yawned, I felt a bit more prepared for all the new things I faced in the city of Rhodes. Johan Glassport closed his book and looked at us, as if he were now ready to talk.

“Mr. Glassport, have you been to Rhodes before?” Mr. Cataliades asked.

“Yes,” the lawyer answered. “I used to practice in Rhodes. Actually, I used to commute between Rhodes and Chicago; I lived midway between.”

“When did you go to Mexico?” I asked.

“Oh, a year or two ago,” he answered. “I had some disagreements with business associates here, and it seemed a good time to . . .”

“Get the heck out of the city?” I supplied helpfully.

“Run like hell?” Diantha suggested.

“Take the money and vanish?” Mr. Cataliades said.

“All of the above,” said Johan Glassport with the faintest trace of a smile.

9

IT WAS MIDAFTERNOON WHEN WE ARRIVED IN Rhodes. There was an Anubis truck waiting to onload the coffins and transport them to the Pyramid of Gizeh. I looked out the limo windows every second of the ride into the city, and despite the overwhelming presence of the chain stores we also saw in Shreveport, I had no doubt I was in a different place. Heavy red brick, city traffic, row houses, glimpses of the lake . . . I was trying to look in all directions at once. Then we came into view of the hotel; it was amazing. The day wasn’t sunny enough for the bronze glass to glint, but the Pyramid of Gizeh looked impressive anyway. Sure enough, there was the park across the six-lane street, which was seething with traffic, and beyond it the vast lake.

While the Anubis truck pulled around to the back of the Pyramid to discharge its load of vampires and luggage, the limo swept up to the front of the hotel. As we daytime creatures scooted out of the car, I didn’t know what to look at first: the broad waters or the decorations of the structure itself.

The main doors of the Pyramid were